<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>the heat and the thrill by honeysigh</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26936605">the heat and the thrill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysigh/pseuds/honeysigh'>honeysigh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Tension, frat AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:29:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26936605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysigh/pseuds/honeysigh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“The skirt must’ve gotten to you,” San says nonchalantly, twisting the knife.</p><p>And as if summoned, Beomgyu trudges into the kitchen, barely paying them any mind as he makes a beeline for the fridge. His gray-blue hair is tousled, leftover traces of poorly washed off eyeliner turning his gaze dark. On his throat sits the biggest hickey Yeonjun’s seen in recent memory, and he just about passes out.</p><p>(Or: Beomgyu and Yeonjun hook up at a Halloween party, except Beomgyu doesn't seem to remember any of it. What ensues is complete chaos.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi Beomgyu/Choi Yeonjun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>304</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the heat and the thrill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>heed the tags as always. there is a flashback scene where characters are drunk and one mention of alcohol-induced vomiting, though it isn't described at all. and yes, there is implied sexual content - none of it blatantly explicit... but this is a frat au so, like. what would one expect.</p><p>other than that, enjoy! beomjun from yeonjun's pov is so ridiculously fun to write he's such an idiot lol. title is from <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/2nMOodYNHBAQ3Kc1QNimZU?si=JNFloS1tTC-QZE69eb8l4A">cool</a> by dua lipa which is a song i just found out about not even 24hrs before posting this. but that song fucks. listen to it if you'd like!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yeonjun is woken up by the obnoxiously loud sound of an unfamiliar ringtone right next to his ear, sharp and blaring so hard he doesn’t even have time to collect himself before his body catches up with his mind and springs the hangover headache on him full-force.</p><p>“What the fuck,” he groans, rolling over and away from the phone. “Someone turn that shit off before I kill it.”</p><p>Of course, no one answers. Yeonjun is left there to wait exasperatedly until it turns off, still echoing in his head as he rolls back over again slowly. Every movement makes his skull throb insistently and he shuts his eyes against the sharp morning sun shining in through the window, reaching blindly for the phone until he grabs it and silences it.</p><p>It takes at least another ten minutes for Yeonjun to realize that 1. he’s on the floor, and 2. he can’t remember anything that happened last night.</p><p>“Hey, dumbass,” a familiar voice calls, and Yeonjun barely manages to crack an eye open to see Wooyoung’s blurry form outlined near the doorway. “My god, look at you. Dude, why are you on the floor?”</p><p>“I don’t fucking know,” Yeonjun tries to say, but it comes out like “Nnghf.”</p><p>“Totally get it,” Wooyoung says sagely.</p><p>“Fuck off,” Yeonjun croaks, this time coherent.</p><p>Wooyoung snorts. “Man, you got <em> wasted </em> last night. Look, I’ll grab you painkillers, okay? Can you, like, sit up in the meantime? That can’t be good for your back.”</p><p>“Mmfgh,” Yeonjun slurs, and Wooyoung laughs as he pads back down the hallway.</p><p>This is—and Yeonjun says this every time, but now he’s being serious—possibly the worst hangover he’s ever had. His heartbeat is everywhere, intensified at the back of his skull. His mouth feels simultaneously dry as a desert and filled with cotton. His vision is blurry, and for some reason his ears feel clogged in an irritating kind of way that makes him want to bang his head against the wall.</p><p>“Don’t do it,” Wooyoung warns when he comes back, armed with painkillers and a glass of water. Yeonjun is sitting up, staring blearily at the wall. “Don’t bang your head against the wall, Yeonjun.”</p><p>“Haha,” Yeonjun says flatly. “... Unless?”</p><p>“Oh my god, you’re out of it,” Wooyoung laughs as he hands Yeonjun his saving graces, cradling the back of his head carefully as he sips his water. “Changbin was in a similar state this morning. Why must both of you be so competitive?”</p><p>Yeonjun manages to crack a tired smile. “Damn. How many drinking games did we play this time?”</p><p>“I don’t know, but the amount of shots you took was worrying. I worry for your liver every day.”</p><p>“Don’t bother,” Yeonjun says dryly. “Help me stand up?”</p><p>“Fine,” Wooyoung says in that overdramatic <em> I guess I’ll help you </em> tone of voice he uses, as though they don’t already know just how much of a caring person he is. “Hey, do you really not remember any of last night? I’ve got a few holes myself, but…”</p><p>It takes Yeonjun a moment to adjust as black spots dance across his vision, clinging to Wooyoung for dear life. He groans as Wooyoung holds him steady, barely processing his question until he’s semi-alive again. “I’m gonna be honest with you,” he says. “I can’t remember anything.”</p><p>“I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m not,” Wooyoung sighs. “You guys always go crazy with the drinking games.”</p><p>Yeonjun frowns. “I would be able to remember some of it, though. At least before I got drunk?”</p><p>“Must’ve hit your head on the ground before you slept,” Wooyoung says sympathetically as he drags Yeonjun out of the room.</p><p>Yeonjun dredges up as many memories as he can—and they’re fuzzy, but slowly they come back to him. Buying insane amounts of alcohol with San in the hours before the party started while the rest of them decorated and got their costumes ready. Getting drunk beforehand to loosen up. Putting on his bare minimum vampire costume (He was going for sex appeal, not genius craft).</p><p>He remembers some of their costumes: San’s Joker outfit, surprisingly put-together. Wooyoung’s siren costume, and Changbin’s… no, he can’t remember, he decides, head aching as it comes up with nothing.</p><p>He doesn’t really have time to dwell on it. “Yeonjun,” San says from where he sits at the kitchen island, “you look like shit.”</p><p>“I’m aware,” Yeonjun says dryly. “You look terrible yourself.”</p><p>Apparently years of wild partying can’t remedy the hangovers, because San’s eyebags are full force, eyes red and face pale as he sips his tea unenthusiastically. Changbin’s sprawled out on the couch, still snoring away, Yeosang is squinting hard at his laptop as he types away as fast as possible, and Jeongin’s trudging through the kitchen like a zombie looking for a cup.</p><p>Out of them all, Wooyoung seems the most coherent, gaze alert and smile cheery as he slides Yeonjun’s cup over to him over the counter. “I didn’t get that drunk last night,” he explains while Yeonjun tries not to drop his cup. “I’m trying to enjoy myself, not fucking die.” He pauses. “Also, there was a cute boy.”</p><p>“Spill,” San gasps immediately.</p><p>Wooyoung waves him off. “I’ll tell you later,” he laughs before swatting Jeongin’s shoulder lightly. “Anyway, <em> someone </em> didn’t eat their fill before the party and then got piss-drunk even when he wasn’t supposed to.”</p><p>Jeongin has the sense to look guilty, at least. “I didn’t think the shots would be strong…”</p><p>“You hear that?” San scofs. “He underestimated hard liquor. Changbin’s gonna be so pissed at you when he wakes up, dude.”</p><p>As if possible, Jeongin pales further, eyes sliding over to Yeonjun pleadingly. Yeonjun squints down at his cup, barely paying attention to them as he asks, “Wait, where’s Beomgyu?”</p><p>“Asleep in the other room,” Wooyoung says. He looks apprehensive now, and Yeonjun raises an eyebrow. “... Yeonjun, do you really not remember anything that happened last night?”</p><p>Yeonjun winces. He’s never had a blackout drunk experience that left such a big hole in his memory before, and it feels off-putting. “No, I really don’t. Why?”</p><p>“Dude,” San laughs, shaking his head. “You should’ve seen yourself last night. Seriously, the way you were all over Beomgyu—”</p><p>And—<em>oh.</em> <em>Fuck</em>. So <em>that’s</em> what he forgot, mind conveniently blank. “Sorry,” Yeonjun says weakly. “What was that?”</p><p>“That’s why I’m shocked you don’t remember,” Wooyoung says with a grimace. “You two were… flirty last night.”</p><p>“More than flirty, Yeonjun,” San says. “You guys were slobbering over each other. Like, getting frisky in front of everyone.”</p><p>That feels like a punch to the gut, anxiety pooling in his stomach as he looks back and forth between the two of them. Even Jeongin looks interested in his state, nodding in confirmation when Yeonjun opens his mouth and then closes it again.</p><p>What’s frustrating about this is the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he still can’t pull the memory out. But then, out of nowhere, another one appears—right before the party had begun in full swing, people already waiting outside their door, Beomgyu had sashayed out of Wooyoung’s room in his costume and full face of makeup, winking at Yeonjun boldly.</p><p>His mouth goes dry now, stomach dropping out from underneath him.</p><p>“The skirt must’ve gotten to you,” San says nonchalantly, twisting the knife.</p><p>And as if summoned, Beomgyu trudges into the kitchen, barely paying them any mind as he makes a beeline for the fridge. His gray-blue hair is tousled, leftover traces of poorly washed off eyeliner turning his gaze dark. On his throat sits the biggest hickey Yeonjun’s seen in recent memory, and he just about passes out.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>In bits and fragments, Yeonjun remembers this:</p><p>He was relaxed on the couch even as their doorbell rang when Beomgyu came strutting out of Wooyoung’s room, a very proud looking Wooyoung stepping out after him. Yeonjun hadn’t really noticed at first, engrossed in a game of cup pong with Yeosang, but then Beomgyu had purred, “Hyungie, look.”</p><p>He was wearing a skimpy schoolgirl outfit. It was something straight out of a bad porno, the way he looked; eyes lined to give him an intensely seductive gaze, though his glittery eyeshadow retained the doe-eyed look to his features. His lips were full and red, and he wore a crop top that showed off a belly button piercing Yeonjun had never seen before. The top was white, with blue buttons. His hair was styled to look purposefully sex-tousled.</p><p>But the real treat, though, was the skirt (red, plaid and <em> far </em> too short), and the stockings (black and sheer), and—high heels. Yeonjun squeaked involuntarily as his eyes trail down to the way his legs looked. He was pretty sure those heels were long enough to make Beomgyu taller than him.</p><p>“So?” The younger boy prompted impatiently after a moment. He looked both smug and shy. “How do I look?”</p><p>Yeonjun swore his heart was in his throat at the huskiness of his voice. In the back of his mind where, R18 Thoughts stayed dormant, he heard one thing: <em> I want to destroy him. </em></p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Naturally, San doesn’t leave him alone about humiliating Yeonjun as much as possible.</p><p>The whole frat can’t shut up about it, in fact. Even Jeongin, who likes to keep his mouth shut and head down unless Changbin (his assigned big and the person he’s least intimidated by in Alpha Sigma, which is completely unsurprising) and Beomgyu (his best friend) are around, wiggles his eyebrows at Yeonjun whenever he and Beomgyu are in close proximity with each other. Which is often, because all of the houses on Greek Row are tiny.</p><p>And as for Beomgyu… he doesn’t mention it at all.</p><p>“Don't you think this is weird?” Yeonjun hisses to Yeosang one morning. It'd be fine and totally socially acceptable to do so if Yeosang weren't a barista at the coffee shop on campus, because it means Yeonjun has to lean over the countertop to make himself known, and the blonde-haired boy gives him a dirty look.</p><p>“Don't I think <em> what's </em> weird?” He says. He pours milk into a cup of hot chocolate, and then says, “Do you mind, Yeonjun? I'm busy. At work. Making money.”</p><p>“At least hear me out,” Yeonjun says with a pout. “I'm talking about the whole Halloween party situation. Haven't you heard, dude? I'm in the middle of an entire crisis here.”</p><p>Yeosang sighs and sets the cup down, eyeing the line behind him. “Make it quick, please,” he sighs. “What the hell are you talking about? I've been out of the loop pretty much the whole time.”</p><p>“I'm talking about—” and here he pauses, willing away the blush at what he's about to say and failing miserably. “Um. You know. Beomgyu?”</p><p>“I do know who Beomgyu is,” Yeosang says dryly. “If you're wondering whether or not I think he's weird, I do, but in a good way.”</p><p>“That's not what I meant,” Yeonjun groans. “I mean... when we went to the Halloween party, we... hooked up, is what I've gathered. But now things have just, like, gone back to normal. That's weird, right?”</p><p>Yeosang gives him a flat stare. “Don't you remember when Wooyoung and San hooked up at the beginning of spring semester last year?” He points out, setting the drink on the counter. “Like—one small hot chocolate!—it's totally normal. You should be <em> used </em> to it by now, actually, so maybe you're the weird one here.”</p><p>It's Yeonjun's turn to give him a dirty look, stepping back from the counter to let the girl grab her drink and leave. Yeosang gets a hopeful look in his eyes that dies as soon as Yeonjun moves back to lean against the counter. “I'm definitely not the weird one, so shut up,” he says, feeling petty. “I'm just saying—yeah, it's happened, but not with someone so new to the frat the way Beomgyu is. Right? At least, not that I can remember.”</p><p>“If it can happen across frats, why can't it happen within one?” Yeosang points out. “Remember Seonghwa hyung? You know, the preppy KSA president? Yeah, I hooked up with him a few weeks ago.” Then he purses his lips. “Don't you <em> dare </em> tell anyone.”</p><p>Yeonjun stares at him, open-mouthed. “Wh—”</p><p>“No questions,” Yeosang says darkly. “I don't want to hear it.”</p><p>“Okay, fine,” Yeonjun says, backing off and rolling his eyes. “But can you at least tell me what the hell I should do about this?”</p><p>“Oh, I dunno,” Yeosang says in a singsong voice, mixing another drink. “Maybe talk to Beomgyu about this instead of your tired, sleep-deprived fratbro who just happens to be in the middle of work right now? Sounds like a good idea to me, personally.”</p><p>“<em>Talk </em> to him?” Yeonjun repeats, wincing.</p><p>“My god,” Yeosang groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes, Yeonjun. Talk to him. Doesn't even have to be about whatever conspired a few nights ago, if you're too backed up with your emotions or hormones right now, or whatever. I doubt ignoring him's gonna do anything good for anyone, though.”</p><p>“I'm not ignoring him,” Yeonjun sighs, “but fine. I'll take your advice.”</p><p>“You'd better, 'cause I'm about to call my manager on you,” Yeosang threatens, but he's smiling. “Dude, we can talk about this later, okay? Take your coffee and leave me be.”</p><p>Yeonjun snorts, grabbing his drink. “Fine. See you later, loser.”</p><p>“Get the fuck out of here,” Yeosang laughs, shaking his head and then promptly scowling when he notices how long the line's getting. Yeonjun makes his escape before he can do something like physically injure him.</p><p>Monday mornings this semester, for once, are Yeonjun's most relaxed day. He goes on a jog before most of the frat even get to wake up, and then grabs coffee before going back to the frat and settling down to study.</p><p>Despite the stereotypes, Yeonjun's only in this frat because of the scholarships. Everything else—the crazy partying, and all of the friends he's made, and now the weird situation he's in—are considered bonuses, so he refuses to let his grade drop past a 90 average at the very least.</p><p>Although it makes it kind of difficult to stick to that plan of action when his mind is riddled with Thoughts, most of them surrounding a certain Choi Beomgyu, and he's fifteen minutes into studying before he realizes he's just been staring off into space, the lines of his Advanced Music Theory textbook blending into nothingness. “Fucking hell,” he mutters to himself.</p><p>The thing is, Yeonjun doesn't consider himself a passive person by any means. He also doesn't consider himself someone willing to sit back and let things happen on their own time, even if that's how other people operate. But for once he feels at a standstill—shocked to silence, weirdly enough. Like there’s nothing he can do for now even if he tried, and the idea of it frustrates him to no end. He decides to take a day or two to contemplate over it, until the anxiety manages to settle down enough for him to do something about… whatever this is. Something that shouldn’t be a big deal, but for some reason is.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As all stereotypical Organized People Things go (or what Wooyoung would call <em> a classic case of Virgo Sun</em>), Yeonjun decides to make a list with the hope that it'll solve all of his problems. He titles it <em> Choi Yeonjun's list of ridiculous fuck-ups </em> on a piece of one of his bullet journal pages and grabs an orange pen just to highlight it.</p><p>“I swear to god, you're the only person that actually fucking color-codes your shit,” Yeosang snorts from behind the couch, effectively scaring Yeonjun and nearly causing his pen to go skidding across the page. “You’re also the only frat boy I know that <em> actually </em> bullet journals. But wow, this is extra pathetic,” the blonde-haired boy laughs when he reads what Yeonjun's written. “So confused about what to do that you had to make a list?”</p><p>Defensively, Yeonjun says “I'm... I'm a Virgo.”</p><p>“I know,” Yeosang says condescendingly, patting Yeonjun's head and then stepping back when he notices what must be a murderous look on his face. “Okay, okay, chill. You know I just like to make fun of you.”</p><p>“Fuck off,” Yeonjun grumbles. “This is a real, actual crisis, you know. I can't just approach things head-first.”</p><p>“In my opinion, you totally can,” Yeosang says lightly, “but you just refuse to. Anyway, it isn't even that deep so I won't bother with criticizing you.” Then he looks around the main floor worriedly, and Yeonjun frowns when he says, “Look... I'll be back in a couple of hours, okay?”</p><p>Yeonjun squints. “Why?”</p><p>Yeosang pauses. And then he blushes, looking sheepish as he ruffles his hair, and Yeonjun realizes he's dressed up in tight-fitted ripped jeans and a biker jacket that makes him look so much more chic than he actually is, which sets alarm bells off in his head. “I'm going on a date. With, um. With Seonghwa hyung.”</p><p>“Oh, holy shit,” Yeonjun says with a laugh. “Dude, you're finished. There's no hope for you. How could <em> you </em> make fun of me when you're in this situation? Kinda embarrassing, if you ask me—”</p><p>“Shut up before I kill you,” Yeosang growls, and Yeonjun muffles a laugh poorly behind his hands that makes his eyes flash. “God, I can't fucking stand you. Do you realize the predicament <em> you're </em> in? You're about to make a whole list just to convey how hopeless you are.”</p><p>“Aish, that's enough from you,” Yeonjun sighs, waving him off. “Go enjoy your date, loser. And no, I won't tell anyone.”</p><p>Yeosang looks like he wants to throw a brick truck at him but is just barely refraining from doing so. “Thanks,” Yeosang mutters under his breath as he grabs his wallet and shoves it into his pocket. “You'd better not.”</p><p>After Yeosang leaves, Yeonjun takes a look at his notebook and sighs, lifting his pencil. The page stares back at him, still as blank as ever, and after a long moment of staring down hard at it, he leans back against the couch and groans, hitting the notebook against his face repeatedly until he starts to feel the sting. Then he leaves it on his face and closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. “This is so fucking stupid,” he mutters under his breath.</p><p>Just approach Beomgyu about it. That's the most obvious part, but even so, Yeonjun doesn't quite know how to go about it anyway. The mere thought of walking up to Beomgyu and saying <em> hey, we might've hooked up and I want to know your thoughts on it </em> makes anxiety swim in his stomach, the nausea so briefly strong that it makes him feel like he's drunk all over again.</p><p>The spotty memories certainly don't help. It's like a void, except all of the memories are just out of reach, and it leaves him to wonder just what they did, and just how much alcohol was had.</p><p>This is going so poorly, he thinks. He's hooked up with people he didn't really mean to hook up with before. And he's not an idiot—he knows that whatever he'd done with Beomgyu came from a place of genuine, mutual attraction.</p><p>That doesn't stop the sick feeling threatening to overwhelm him at all times. Because alcohol is alcohol, and who knows if Beomgyu even finds him attractive enough to bother with him sober? </p><p>Which. Yeonjun knows just how easy it is to fall into rabbit holes like that, so he exhales slowly through his nose and then tosses his notebook off to the side, finding his footing and standing up. He goes up to his room to find his laptop, determined to get work in again at the very least, even if it's difficult to focus with Beomgyu on his mind.</p><p>When he comes back downstairs, he sees Beomgyu bent over the back of the couch and the front door still open, squinting down at his notebook. He freezes. “Uh,” he says intelligently.</p><p>Beomgyu looks up at him and stands back up, shoving his hands in his pockets and grinning widely at Yeonjun. “Hey, hyung! You know it's always better to practice positive self-talk rather than beat yourself up, right?”</p><p>Mystified, Yeonjun frowns. Part of him is too busy reading Beomgyu's body language—both shocked and confused at the way he's interacting with him so casually when Yeonjun himself has yet to control the way his palms start sweating as soon as Beomgyu so much as looks at him. “What?”</p><p>Beomgyu gestures at the notebook on the couch, tilting his head to the side. “Why make a list of your fuck-ups when you could talk about your achievements, or something?”</p><p><em> Oh. </em> Yeonjun has to resist the urge to slap himself out of his daze. “I—yeah, you know what? You're right. I'll make a list about how amazing I am instead.”</p><p>“That's the spirit,” Beomgyu says warmly. Then he winks as he shoulders his backpack and makes his way to the stairs. “Although you gotta stay humble, right? I'm sure that list won't be very long.”</p><p>“Hey!” Yeonjun squawks, unable to hold in his laugh despite his nervousness. “Fuck off!”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Beomgyu giggles from the top of the stairs, waving at him before he runs off to the room he shares with Jeongin.</p><p>Yeonjun blinks the wall for a moment before he drags a hand over his face. The thought to tell Beomgyu hadn't even come up for the entire two minutes of the conversation, too caught up in whether or not Beomgyu seemed normal.</p><p>A <em> disaster</em>. That's what this is.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I've done it,” he sighs, later, as soon as Changbin steps inside the house. “I've finally gotten myself cursed.”</p><p>Changbin peers at him, raising an eyebrow. “Yourself, or your dick?”</p><p>“Both,” Yeonjun says mournfully.</p><p>“Ah,” Changbin says sagely, nodding his head as he sits down next to him. “So you have a crush?”</p><p>“<em>Don't </em> say it,” Yeonjun hisses, throwing a pillow at Changbin, who laughs and throws it right back.</p><p>“Our little Yeonjunnie,” Changbin teases. “All grown up and in <em> love</em>, because of one skirt.”</p><p>Yeonjun resists the urge to strangle him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>But then there's this, too:</p><p>“He told me he doesn't remember anything,” Jeongin says, kicking his feet up onto the dining room table as he says this like it's nothing special.</p><p>Yeonjun freezes from where he's grabbing milk from the fridge. “Sorry, what?”</p><p>“Hyung, I know you heard me,” Jeongin says knowingly. “But just to repeat myself, he said he doesn't remember anything from the party. I asked partly because I don't remember shit either save for everything you hyungs have been hinting on, but also because I wanted to know why he was acting so weird.”</p><p>Yeonjun doesn't know how to feel about this development, setting the carton of milk down onto the countertop. Then he leans back against the fridge door and says, tentatively, “And... did you tell him what happened?”</p><p>Jeongin snorts. “Hyung, that's for you to tell him, not me. What am I supposed to say—oh, that's totally chill, no worries, but just so you know I'm pretty sure you hooked up with Yeonjun hyung and he's pretty damn hung up about it, and also he thinks you looked <em> really </em> good in that skirt—”</p><p>“<em>Okay</em>, okay, that's enough,” Yeonjun interjects, mortified. “Goddamn. Changbin needs to teach you some manners.”</p><p>“As if I'd be intimidated by some tiny brat,” Jeongin says with a grin, and, well. Yeonjun can't exactly argue against that.</p><p>“Fine,” he says. “You make a valid point. I'm actually kind of glad you didn't tell him, by the way. There would've been no way of explaining why he's acting completely normal around me.”</p><p>Jeongin gives him a strange look. It's the kind of look he likes to give people to either intimidate them or convey the fact that he knows more about something than they do, and it makes Yeonjun frown.</p><p>“What?” He says, exasperated. “Are you gonna tell me why you're looking at me like that or no?”</p><p>“Hm,” Jeongin says contemplatively. “No, I don't think I will.”</p><p>“Fuck off,” Yeonjun mutters. “Seriously.”</p><p>Jeongin simply gives him a smile. “I dunno, hyung. You could always just approach him first, right? Not everything will fall into your lap as easily as you want, and especially not someone like Beomgyu.”</p><p>Yeonjun gives the younger boy one long look. “That was an innuendo, wasn't it.”</p><p>“Changbin hyung's a good pun teacher,” Jeongin replies simply, and Yeonjun shakes his head disappointedly as Changbin laughs from the couch.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It takes nearly four days for the memories to come rushing back in entirety. One morning Yeonjun wakes up, realizes he’s overslept for a class, and is then hit with the full-body realization of almost every single thing that happened at the party. And then he stubs his toe on the edge of his nightstand as he gets up and closed-mouth shrieks for a solid three seconds.</p><p>So yeah. This week has <em> not </em> been good to him.</p><p>He takes his time going through each memory as he sends his apology email to his professor and hobbles downstairs, thankful that it’s at least silent in the house this close to noon. Except every memory feels like a punch to the gut, and at one point Yeonjun puts his face in his hands, groaning.</p><p>So much for a peaceful morning, because all he remembers is this—</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Beomgyu was dressed with a vengeance, like he had something to prove.</p><p>There was something about him that night, Yeonjun thought. Extra fire, with the way he strutted around and made himself known without trying. He wasn’t the only guy to wear a skirt—people lose Halloween bets all too easily—but Beomgyu was the only one who managed to pull it off, in Yeonjun’s eyes. Or maybe he was just going crazy.</p><p>“You're going crazy,” San slurred, and Yeonjun glared at him. “What? You wanted an honest opinion, right?”</p><p>“No,” Yeonjun said flatly. “No, I did not.”</p><p>“Well, you're getting it anyway because that's what best friends do,” San said with a roll of his eyes. They had to yell over the din of the party just to hear each other, and Yeonjun was forced to lean in to listen to him properly. “Anyway, if you want him so bad, you know you can just... approach him, right?”</p><p>The mere idea of walking up to Beomgyu and saying <em> hey, you look really good in that skirt </em> made Yeonjun's stomach attempt to fall out from under him. “<em>H</em><em>ell </em> no.”</p><p>San giggled, shaking his head. They were the only ones on the couch save for a couple making out on the other side, everyone too busy dancing in and outside of the frat house. Beomgyu himself was in the kitchen, nursing a cup of beer as he talked to Jeongin, who couldn't seem to take his eyes off of Beomgyu either.</p><p>Understandably so, really. The skirt was short, and Yeonjun felt like he needed express permission just to look at his thighs. The high heels were driving him up a wall especially, and combined with the crop top? Well.</p><p>“You know he's been looking at you too, right?” San said, sipping at his drink. “Whenever you aren't looking, at least.”</p><p>Yeonjun raised an eyebrow at San. As soon as he did, purposefully turning to face him a little more, he caught Beomgyu's head turning their way from the corner of his eye. “...Ah.”</p><p>Then he gulped the rest of his drink down anxiously, waiting for some liquid fire to course through his veins.</p><p>“Maybe you should slow down on the drinks,” San said, which was funny to hear because he was further along than Yeonjun was, only barely managing to keep his eyes open. San was a sleepy drunk for some reason. A strange contrast to how hyperactively horny he seemed in day-to-day life, but Yeonjun didn’t comment.</p><p>“I'm trying to work up the nerve to just walk up to him,” Yeonjun sighed. San leaned into him, yawning, and Yeonjun snorted. “Am I losing you already?”</p><p>“Mm, maybe,” San said, just barely loud enough for him to hear. “Take me to Wooyoungie.”</p><p>Yeonjun looked across the room at where Wooyoung was standing near the stairs, making eyes at a short guy with piercings that flashed in the changing lights. As though he felt his gaze on him, Wooyoung looked over at them and then raised an eyebrow. <em> Get over here</em>, Yeonjun mouthed, and Wooyoung sighed as he nodded his assent, waving at the guy, who gave him a blinding smile and a bow. </p><p>Once Wooyoung had San with him, looking equal parts annoyed and exasperatedly fond with him, Yeonjun realized he didn't have much of an excuse to sit around and do nothing about it. He didn't even know why he was so nervous in the first place—he was good at this. <em> Liked </em> hooking up, liked flirting, liked putting on a mask for the night and watching people orbit around him. Something about Beomgyu, though, in the way he smiled daintily even as he stared at Yeonjun from across the room like he was hungry, like he would eat him up in an instant—something about it made him unreasonably nervous.</p><p>The alcohol helped, boosting him forward enough to start making his way to the kitchen. Jeongin was gone by then, presumably getting more drunk somewhere else, and then it was just the two of them.</p><p>“Hey,” Yeonjun said, trying and failing to stifle the fond smile he can never help but give Beomgyu every time. The music was quieter here, so he didn’t need to yell. It felt like they wrapped up in a bubble.</p><p>“Hello,” Beomgyu said, smiling back. The look in his eyes was still nearly predatory, and he set his cup off to the side, arms leaning back against the countertop. With his head tilted back a little bit, eyeing him carefully, Yeonjun couldn’t take his eyes off the outfit. The piercing, the crop top, the way his hair fell into his eyes—</p><p>“You look,” Yeonjun said, “really fucking good.”</p><p>“Do I?” Beomgyu said coyly. And then— “Are you going to do something about it, hyung?”</p><p>Yeonjun didn’t even bother with being shocked, surging forward.</p><p>Beomgyu was a good kisser, which is what he remembers the most. The hot press of their mouths, and the way he wrapped his arms around Yeonjun’s neck, and how he’d whimpered when Yeonjun pulled their bodies together, hands unapologetically holding his waist—“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling away for a moment to properly breathe. “You’re something else entirely, you know that?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Beomgyu breathed, looking at him with those fucking <em> eyes </em>, level with him in his heels. Wide and innocent-seeming even as he stared straight at his mouth, practically about to pounce him again.</p><p>Yeonjun ran a hand up the back of Beomgyu’s thighs, daring him to react. Beomgyu didn’t withhold his reactions at all—he shivered, and his hold on Yeonjun’s shoulders tightened, and then he pouted up at Yeonjun so cutely it made his heart hurt. “Don’t be mean, hyung, touch me like you mean it.”</p><p>“I’m afraid I’ll break you,” Yeonjun said weakly.</p><p>“You won’t,” Beomgyu promised, squirming when Yeonjun leaned in just to press their foreheads together. “Seriously.”</p><p>“Well then.” He heard a catcall from behind them and ignored it completely in favor of murmuring, “Wanna continue?”</p><p>Beomgyu bit his lip, leaning into Yeonjun. He seemed insistent about getting as close as possible, making a weak little noise that Yeonjun felt in the ache of his bones. “Of course. I’ve always wanted to do this with you, hyung.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em> I’ve always wanted to do this. </em>Those words play over and over in his head as he stands there, knees weak. They hadn’t gone any further than making out before Yeonjun got distracted by San and Jeongin getting sick from all the alcohol, which is equal parts relieving and incredibly frustrating.</p><p>There’s no way he can just shove this off to the side, though. As much as it pains him to even consider the thought of confrontation, he has to at <em> least </em> tell Beomgyu what happened.</p><p>Yeonjun strengthens his resolve even as he resists the urge to run away screaming. Whatever happens will happen.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As it turns out, he doesn't even need to work up the nerve to approach Beomgyu, because he does it for him nearly a week after the debacle. Yeonjun steps inside his shared room with Wooyoung, only to see the younger boy chilling on Wooyoung's chair, cross-legged and staring at his phone, and for an intense moment he physically has to resist the urge to step back out of the room and away.</p><p>It takes Beomgyu a second to even realize he's there with his headphones on, Yeonjun standing awkwardly all the while. When he looks up, he squeaks. “Oh, hyung!” He exclaims, taking his headphones off.</p><p>“Hey,” Yeonjun says, glancing away. “What's up?”</p><p>“Nothing much,” Beomgyu responds. He's grinning, totally relaxed in a simple big black sweater and sweatpants, and it makes Yeonjun's heart sink already. Because there is <em> no </em> way he could remember that night and act as casually as he is, and Yeonjun doesn't know what to make of it. “Just wanted to talk to you and say hi. We haven't really had much time to see each other at all, hm?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Yeonjun sighs, dropping his backpack on the ground and making his way to his bed.</p><p>And then—“Actually, hyung,” Beomgyu says suddenly. “Can you close the door?”</p><p>Yeonjun, halfway to his bed, frowns.“Uh... why?”</p><p>Beomgyu rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Because the house gets so <em> loud </em> sometimes. Duh.”</p><p>“Then close it yourself, brat,” Yeonjun grumbles, falling onto his bed. He watches Beomgyu stick his head out of the door before shutting it and asks, “Does what you want to talk about require... privacy?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Beomgyu responds immediately, and Yeonjun starts to feel his blood running cold.</p><p>The younger boy sits back down on the chair, one knee up to his chest and the other splayed out casually, and he runs a hand through his hair as he stares at Yeonjun for one long, scrutinizing moment. He isn't smiling anymore.</p><p>Yeojun tries to ignore the sick-to-his-stomach feeling as he asks, “What—what did you want to talk about?”</p><p>Beomgyu doesn't respond for a moment, still too busy staring. It would be fine on anyone else, but there's always been something about the way he just <em> looks</em>, stare intense and unforgiving like he's trying to peer right into Yeonjun's soul. “You're avoiding me,” he says. Not a question, but a statement of fact.</p><p>Yeonjun fidgets with the edges of his sleeves, sitting up properly. “... Um.”</p><p>He isn't even sure of what to say, feeling more nervous than he normally ever would in a situation like this. It's like—acknowledging his feelings the other day has somehow made it incredibly difficult to even <em> talk </em> to Beomgyu, despite doing his best to work up the nerve anyway. And with the way Beomgyu is looking at him now...</p><p>He realizes it's the same dark-eyed, searching look he'd given him at the party. The kind of eyes he'd been making then were glazed over with want, but it's still eerily similar all the same, and it makes Yeonjun want to throw up with the knowledge that Beomgyu still doesn't even <em> remember </em> what happened.</p><p>He should tell him, he thinks. He really should. Honesty is the best policy despite whether or not Beomgyu will like hearing about it or not, and if he doesn't, he might as well lose out on a friendship that has genuinely been going well thus far.</p><p>Beomgyu purses his lips. “Can you tell me why?”</p><p>Yeonjun feels himself blushing. <em> Fuck, </em>he doesn't know why he's even acting like this now, when he's <em> used </em> to hooking up with people.</p><p><em> You know why</em>, the horrible, traitorous part of his brain whispers, and Yeonjun grits his teeth.</p><p>“I should tell you,” he says quietly, leaning back against the wall next to his bed. It's hard to meet his gaze properly, and sighs. “That night at the party, um, we... we—”</p><p>“Hooked up?” Beomgyu says. “Yeah, I know.”</p><p>Yeonjun stares at him blankly, opening his mouth and then closing it again. “Sorry,” he says faintly. “What?”</p><p>“I said I know,” Beomgyu says, voice devoid of all emotion, and Yeonjun's eyes widen.</p><p>“How do you remember?” Yeonjun says weakly. “I mean—Jeongin told me you didn't, and—”</p><p>“That was a lie,” Beomgyu says calmly, like he isn't rocking Yeonjun's entire world. “I lied. As in, to his face, because he would've made fun of me for weeks on end, and I wanted to go through things in my own head for a bit first. Although I’m sure he actually knows, but that’s not the point.”</p><p>“Things,” Yeonjun repeats slowly. He's so dazed he can barely keep up with Beomgyu, who seems totally fine, save for the indiscernible look in his eyes. “Beomgyu, we almost—”</p><p>“Yes, <em> things,</em> and I know,” Beomgyu refusing to look away. “Hyung, I can remember almost everything. You approaching me. The way you were watching me for nearly the entire time I was in the kitchen. Us making out, and the way you looked at me when I showed you my costume. It's all there.” Yeonjun is almost tempted to think Beomgyu doesn't care, but then he catches it—the way one hand is fisted into the edge of his sweater, and the light blush dusting across his cheeks. “I just want to know why you didn't tell me.”</p><p>“Wh—” Yeonjun glares. “Why didn't <em> you </em> tell me? You can't say all this avoiding was completely one-sided!”</p><p>It would be completely impossible to avoid someone like Beomgyu in any capacity, anyway. Not just because they live together, but because Beomgyu is someone naturally bright—a sun in his own right, waiting to be orbited around, and yet he chooses to orbit around the people he loves despite this.</p><p>Beomgyu frowns. “Well, yeah, but it was different for me—”</p><p>“Okay, well, that just makes no fucking sense, dude, so don't even start,” Yeonjun points out, shaking his head. “Look. Can we just acknowledge this? That we hooked up, and that we were both drunk, and that it might've been a mistake?”</p><p>Here, Beomgyu pauses. Then he narrows his eyes at Yeonjun. “A mistake,” he says slowly.</p><p>Yeonjun bites his lip. As much as he wants to back off, call it a mistake and move on, he knows himself, and knows Beomgyu enough to understand that being any kind of dishonest won't work out here. It's this knowledge that pushes him to speak, despite the guilt raging in his chest, making him feel constricted. “Well, I don't think it was a mistake,” he says quietly. “I mean, they always say alcohol makes you honest, right?”</p><p>“So you wanted this?” Beomgyu asks carefully.</p><p><em> Stop fucking around and tell me your feelings too</em>, Yeonjun wants to scream, but he bites his tongue and says, “Yeah, obviously. It isn't even just the fact that you had on a sexy outfit that night, although that definitely propelled things forward.” Thinking about his outfit, even now, drives Yeonjun up a wall. “Um, anyway. That's not the point, though. I'm saying that night made me realize that I... maybe want to keep doing that with you some more.”</p><p>He hates how his face is on fire. Choi Yeonjun, perfect student and the kind of frat boy everyone crushes on by default, reduced to a blubbering mess because of some silly crush he's only just realizing now.</p><p>Beomgyu doesn't seem to be faring much better, both knees up to his chest in what looks like a defensive position on Yeonjun's end. “Wait, really?” He breathes after a moment. “You aren't, like, fucking with me right now?”</p><p>“Of course not!” Yeonjun exclaims, thoroughly exasperated. Then he shakes his head and smiles. “Dude, are you kidding me? I would never bother fucking <em> with </em> you, at least.”</p><p>Beomgyu puts his face in his hands. “Hyung, you can't just say things like that!”</p><p>“I think I can,” Yeonjun says smugly. Now <em> this</em>, he can work with. Affection disguised as banter comes way easier to him than an honest discussion of feelings ever will, and he can't believe he's only realizing now that this is the dynamic he's established with Beomgyu from the get-go. “Anyway, I need to hear your side, and I want you to know that... it's fine on my end. I enjoyed it, actually. But if you were uncomfortable in any way—”</p><p>“No!” Beomgyu yelps so loud it makes Yeonjun flinch, eyes wide. “Fuck. Sorry, hyung. B-but no, it's not—it wasn't—I've never been uncomfortable with you.”</p><p>Then he blushes and adds, much quieter, “I thought you were really, really considerate. Never aggressive when we kissed or anything, just... gentle.” He wrings his hands together. “I like to think that's how you'd treat me if we—you know, if we—”</p><p>“Yeah,” Yeonjun says, voice suddenly hoarse with what feels like so much want it's killing him. “Yeah, I would. There's no question about it, really.”</p><p>“Would you do it again?” Beomgyu asks shyly. “Because hyung, I think I have a crush on you. I mistook it as some sort of admiration thing, I guess, because you're just so <em> cool </em> and hot and <em> everyone </em> likes you—I mean, not that that's why I like you, or anything, but... <em> ugh</em>. Let me just stop talking. Sorry if this is too much, and if you don't like me back that's totally fine.”</p><p>He's curling in on himself. Combined with his messy hair falling into his eyes and the already downtrodden look in his gaze, Yeonjun has to resist the urge to get up off the bed and wrap the younger boy in a hug. “Hey,” he says gently instead, trying to coax him back out of the shell he seems to be putting up. “Thanks for all those compliments, first of all. Really needed that ego boost. But... you don't have to apologize. The past week has been me realizing I have a really, really bad crush on you, Gyu.”</p><p>Beomgyu bites his lip, searching his face. “Y-you really do?”</p><p>“I really do,” Yeonjun confirms. “It feels weird to admit, when it hasn't even been a year, but yeah. I think you're cute, and energetic, and playful, and it just works well with me. Plus, you're hot too, you know that?”</p><p>“I do,” Beomgyu says sagely, and Yeonjun rolls his eyes as the younger boy snorts. “No, but—thank you, hyung. I'm... I'm still kind of new to all of this, which is kind of embarrassing to admit, but yeah.”</p><p>“New?” Yeonjun tilts his head to the side. “Don't tell me you haven't dated before when you look like <em> this </em> on the regular, dude.”</p><p>“I've dated!” Beomgyu exclaims hotly. “But only once, and it was in my first year of high school.”</p><p>“I see,” Yeonjun hums. “Can I assume you've never had sex before, then?”</p><p>That was maybe too straightforward, he thinks to himself, because Beomgyu squeaks and then pouts, breaking eye contact for once. “Um, is it bad if I haven't? I feel like that's weird. I'm in a fraternity, it's literally a stereotype.”</p><p>Yeonjun laughs, shaking his head. “It's fine, sweetheart. It's not like we're sex gods or anything, so don't worry about it.” Then, because he can't help himself, he grins widely and adds, “Plus, I can just teach you!”</p><p>Which forces the strangest noise out of Beomgyu's mouth, like someone violently punched him in the gut. He looks winded when he whines, “<em>Hyung.</em>”</p><p>“Okay, okay, I'll stop,” Yeonjun snickers, with no intentions of stopping. It's all too easy to stand up and stalk towards the younger boy, despite how his legs had felt like complete jelly not even ten minutes ago. And it's <em> way </em> too easy to lean into Beomgyu's space, crowding him against the small chair he's sitting on and taking note of his wide, wide doe eyes, trained carefully and completely on him. </p><p>Everything about him feels tailored to make Yeonjun want to devour him completely, and he wonders how he even held himself back at the party, though he's glad he did. Because now it means he can take his time with Beomgyu, he thinks as he tilts the younger boy's chin up with a finger. He goes willingly, and Yeonjun tries to ignore the molten heat already stirring low in his gut as he asks, “Wanna kiss me again, Beomgyu?”</p><p>“Isn't that how these things progress?” Beomgyu says, voice wavering even as he narrows his eyes.</p><p>“I would assume so,” Yeonjun murmurs, staring blatantly down at his lips. “But I'd like to hear it from you, just in case.”</p><p>“Of <em> course </em> I want to kiss you,” Beomgyu says, shivering when Yeonjun thumbs over his bottom lip. “Y-you're so much at once.”</p><p>“So I've been told,” Yeonjun says, feeling satisfied as he leans in to press a kiss to Beomgyu's lips. Immediately, the younger boy is holding onto his arms tightly, like he's about to sink into a sea and Yeonjun is his anchor, holding him steady even as he drives him mad.</p><p>It's hard to hold back when Beomgyu's so damn <em> responsive</em>—making a weak little noise at the back of his throat when Yeonjun gathers him into his arms, a hand on the back of his neck. But it's also incredibly difficult to stand and kiss him at this angle, and after a moment he pulls back to stare down at him. “Get up, dude.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Beomgyu breathes, looking so out of it already it almost makes Yeonjun laugh. Then he catches the sight of himself in the mirror next to Wooyoung's bed and thinks, <em> I'd have no right</em>, because he's just as flushed, eyes just as dark and wanting as Beomgyu's, if not more.</p><p>He pushes him up against the nightstand to show Beomgyu how much he wants him, hands settling on his waist before they start roaming all over his body, desperate to get to all of him. Beomgyu’s appreciative whimper is muffled against Yeonjun’s lips, and when he licks at the seam of his lips tentatively, Beomgyu opens his mouth eagerly.</p><p>It’s when he slides a hand up the back of Beomgyu’s sweater that the younger boy breaks away, gasping for breath. “Oh my god,” he whispers.</p><p>“Too much?” Yeonjun asks worriedly, about to pull away, but then Beomgyu tightens his grip on his shoulders.</p><p>“No, I can take it,” he says determinedly. “I like this.”</p><p>Yeonjun’s heart melts. “Oh, you’re so cute. <em> So </em> glad our drunken selves decided to be bold.”</p><p>Beomgyu scrunches his nose up in a laugh, and Yeonjun thinks he’s most definitely fucked.</p><p>But in the best way possible, so he isn’t really complaining.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>because i like elaborating and linking wips together to make it as convenient as possible for me, there'll be a sort-of-continuation of this posted at some point! so consider this the prequel to something bigger &amp; with decidedly more tension.</p><p>hope you enjoyed! if you did, consider leaving kudos and comments for serotonin (and positive feedback!) purposes ♡♡</p><p>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/9thstellium">twitter!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>